


I'm Not Airsick, I'm Allergic To Planes

by EmetoOmo



Series: Allergy Series [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Airsickness, M/M, Motion Sickness, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Sequel to I’m Not Seasick, I’m Allergic to Boats! Since Jesse had been such a good sport and taken a ship for Hanzo, Hanzo begrudgingly agreed they could fly back. It doesn’t take long at all for the archer to begin regretting that decision!





	I'm Not Airsick, I'm Allergic To Planes

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Two people on a flight. Person A feels sick and Person B gives them the advice to drink water to make them feel better. Person B hands them a water bottle and turns around to look for an air sickness bag only to find Person A has chugged the entire bottle. Chaos ensues. McHanzo bc I STG that fic was the most beautiful thing to grace this earth
> 
> Shoutout to squidbiscuit on tumblr who drew the aftermath of this story and helped inspire part 3! http://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/168610426231/can-everyone-do-me-a-favor-and-read-this-fic
> 
> Graphic depictions of vomiting ahead.

Hanzo felt as if this was somehow payback for talking McCree into getting on the ship with him, but now the as the archer was strapped in next to the window of the large commercial aircraft, he found himself feeling as if there was both too much and not enough seatbelt. Jesse plopped down beside him, lighting up his cigar, and he immediately grabbed it, crushed it, and tossed it out of reach. “Now don’t get your knickers in a twist, you’re gonna be fine. Just the same as I was, right?”

“I do not see the point in this.” Hanzo said a little irritably, his arms crossed across his partially bare chest.

Jesse chuckled, a rich tone that always melted Hanzo’s temper, but this time it just irritated him more for not being able to  _stay_  irritated with him. “You got your wish to get here, we’re using my way to get back. That’s what couple’s do, compromise.”

Hanzo hissed quietly under his breath, turning his head.

“And fight like a couple of old marrieds.” Jesse could only smile more, finding Hanzo cute when he was like this, nevermind how unspeakably stubborn the archer got. It’d be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy the challenge.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and McCree relaxed into the seat a little bit more, closing his eyes. He had just started to doze when Hanzo’s crushing grasp on his wrist and forearm woke him, and he looked around surprised. “What the—“ Hanzo was white as a sheet as they took off, looking every bit as If death had come to claim him right that minute. “You’re alright. Take off is the worst part.” He comforted softly, laying his free hand over Hanzo’s that gripped him.

Hanzo said nothing, as if his silence was all that was holding the seams of the plane together.

This was about to be an adventure.

The archer’s grip didn’t even begin to falter as they leveled out in the air, and Jesse had to physically pry his hand from him and hold it while he waited to regain feeling. “See, we’re good now. Why don’t you look out the window? Might calm your nerves some.”

“There is no logic in it.” Hanzo whispered after a moment.

“Well, yeah, I s’pose it was a bad idea to have you see how high up we are to calm you down, but—“

“This hunk of metal…it isn’t safe. It makes no sense.” Hanzo insisted.

Jesse lofted a brow. “You shoot two ghost dragons out of your arm, and walk around with your tiddy hanging out in the snow, but this doesn’t make sense to you.”

Hanzo glared.

“Hey, to each their own, guy. I’m just saying—“ He shrugged, and again they fell into silence.

Every once in awhile, Hanzo’s stone-like stillness was interrupted by him tugging at the seatbelt a little, or at the loose bit of cloth that touched one side of his neck. His breathing slowly became carefully measured, calculated. McCree saw every movement from the corner of his eye, as well as the way Hanzo carefully shifted, trying not to draw attention to himself, but his stiffness in contrast to us usual fluidity was hard to ignore. “You gon’ be okay there?”

“Fine.” Came his curt reply.

A quick look showed that Hanzo never had regained the color from take-off, only now he was starting to sweat. “Are you—“

“Allergic. To Airplanes.”

“Well, goddamn, don’t just squirm there, lemme get you a bottle of water…” Jesse insisted, getting up to talk to an attendant, who disappeared behind a curtain, and returned in quick succession to hand him the lidless water to bring back to him. The entire plane gave a shudder through some light turbulence, and Hanzo wouldn’t even reach for the drink until he was sure they weren’t going to immediately fall out of the sky. “I told you it was a bad idea to eat that cake before we left.”

“I do not like to waste.” He said stubbornly. “You could have had a bite.”

Jesse searched around the ridiculous amount of storage compartments, looking for a sickness bag. “I stole a strawberry off the top and you smacked my hand.”

“It is…” He chugged a good half of the bottle away. “…meant to be eaten together. It is an incomplete experience without.” He raised the bottle to his lips again, and began draining it.

“It’s a cake. It better taste good is all I care about. I didn’t need instructions to eat it.” McCree said simply, opening what felt like the tenth compartment before a white paper sack fell out into his lap. “Alright, take this and sip the water. Just in case.”

“It is gone.” The archer whispered, a tremor to his voice.

“Wh-whadya mean it’s gone? I just handed it to you…”

Hanzo handed him the empty plastic bottle, and hand his hand over his sloshing stomach. “I did not need instructions to drink it.”

McCree shook the bag open. “Obviously you did, or you wouldn’t be about to yak.”

 “I do not—“ The plane listed to the side seemingly, dropping just enough altitude to float your stomach, before shuddering in protest as it leveled back out. Before he could even get the word ‘yak’ out in the mocking tone he had prepared, watery vomit splashed past his lips and into McCree’s lap with a bubbling gushing sound.

There was no time to react really, Hanzo’s stomach roiling painfully as he belched up another wave of vomit that partially went into the bag and the rest of it over McCree’s hand. “Don’t you pay it no mind, just get it out,” he said soothingly, letting his artificial hand hold the sack for Hanzo while his flesh fingers brushed back loose strands of the archer’s silky black locks that had escaped the elastic band.

For as quiet and composed as Hanzo normally was, he was an abnormally noisy puker, his belches and heaves seeming impossibly loud in the air tight cabin.

“Nothin to see here folks. Just a touch of the airplane allergy,” Jesse announced, feeling eyes on them.

Hanzo’s stomach seemed to calm a little, but just thinking about it got him gagging again, and another retch brought up a thick pink glob of strawberry cake. It didn’t taste as bad as it could have, but it was enough that it set him off all over again.

“We’re gonna need another bag…” McCree said, looking around. He shivered a little, the air-conditioned cabin cold when he was sitting there with vomit wetting his clothing straight through to the skin. He waved an attendant over who brought him another bag and a disgusted look that wasn’t hidden in the least.  “Gotta switch these out…can you try to hold it out?”

Hanzo took a deep breath that had him gag a little before nodding and closing his mouth. The back of a shaking hand pressed to his lips as he watched McCree try to make fast work of that second bag, only for a powerful gush of puke pressed his cheeks out, the taste of his heavy on his tongue sending another wave in quick succession, and it didn’t matter how he pressed his hand over his mouth, it oozed through his fingers.

“I am sorry, Hanzo…” McCree said gently, getting the bag opened beneath him. “I promise you, no more planes after this.” He hated to see him so sick, his cheeks pink with embarrassment from the public loss of his composure.

“None…” Hanzo agreed.

Not that he thought any airline in their right mind would let them back on after the mess they’d made…


End file.
